Adrian appeared in the doorway. “It's done. The King knows. He's issuing arrest warrants. Palace guard is mobilizing.”
My heart kicked. “For Marcel?”
“For Marcel. His assets are frozen. His accounts seized. He's officially a fugitive.”
I looked at Viktor. Saw the frustration carved into his face before he even spoke.
“Nothing,” he said. Voice flat. Dead. “We intercepted the shipment. Four trucks. Armed escort. Everything went according to plan.”
“And?” Adrian prompted.
“Medical supplies. Actual fucking medical supplies.” Viktor's hand slammed against the table. “Bandages. Antibiotics. Exactly what the manifest said. Marcel played us.”
The words hit like a fist to the gut.
“He knew,” I said. Voice hollow. “He knew we were coming.”
“Da. Probably knew the moment we started planning.” Viktor's jaw worked. “Whole operation was clean. Professional. We disabled the escort. Secured the cargo. Documented everything. And found nothing we can use.”
Dom shifted on the table where Noah was still stitching his shoulder. “So the bastard's smart. Doesn't mean he's untouchable.”
“Doesn't mean he isn't,” Viktor countered. “Without physical evidence from the shipment, all we have are the files.”
“Which are enough,” I said, pulling the satchel closer. “Financial records. Communication logs. The Queen's file with his handwriting on route changes three days before she died. This is ironclad.”
Adrian moved to the table, studying the documents I'd spread out. “It's good. Very good. But Marcel will claim forgery. Will say someone used his office. Will bury us in legal challenges while he disappears.”
“Then we don't give him time to disappear.” My voice came outharder than I meant. “The King's issuing arrest warrants. Palace guard is mobilizing. We move now, before he can run.”
Viktor's hand found my shoulder. “We will. But smart. Not reckless.”
“There's a difference?”
“For you? Sometimes no. But tonight, yes.” He looked exhausted. Blood on his jacket from the operation. Dirt under his fingernails. Eyes hollowed out from two days without sleep. “We intercept failed. But we got you out alive. Got the files. Exposed him. That's enough for now.”
“It's not enough until he's dead.”
The words hung there. Raw. Honest. Violent.
Noah looked up from Dom's shoulder. “You're all insane. You know that, right?”
“Probably,” Adrian agreed. “But we're insane together.”
“That's supposed to be comforting?”
“It's the best I can offer.”
Noah laughed. Tired. Real. “Then I'll take it.”
Adrian's phone buzzed. He answered. Listened. His expression shifted.
“Understood. We're moving now.” He hung up. Looked at me. “That was your father. Marcel's gone. Left the palace an hour ago. Private airfield outside London. We've got people en route but he's got a head start.”
My fists clenched. “So he runs.”
“For now,” Viktor said. “But we will find him.”
“When?”
